


sweet as sand

by lyryk (s_k)



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-18
Updated: 2011-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-25 23:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_k/pseuds/lyryk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>James Norrington/Tia Dalma, post-AWE, for <span><a href="http://volgivagant.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://volgivagant.livejournal.com/"><b>volgivagant</b></a></span></b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	sweet as sand

The sun never sets. The land is barren, as bone-dry as the Caribbean had been full of blue waters. He should be parched, starving, but his body doesn’t seem to know hunger anymore.

‘I shouldn’t be here,’ he tells the woman every time he sees her. The third time, she snarls in annoyance and knocks him off his feet with a small bolt of deftly-conjured lightning, disappearing in a rage before he can pick himself up.

‘You have magic,’ he screams to no one, hauling himself off the sandy ground. ‘Take us out of here!’

‘You don’t understand, do you, Admiral?’ she says the next day, appearing behind him as he’s peering off a precipice, only swirling clouds beneath his gaze. It’s the first time she’s spoken.

‘I’m not an Admiral,’ he says, looking down at himself, relieved to see the familiar blue and gold and white.

Her gaze is harsh, unrelenting. ‘You were.’

‘No,’ he insists, his hand going automatically to his waist to seek the familiar, comforting hilt of his Turner sword before he remembers that it’s no longer there. ‘I’m Commodore James Norrington of His Majesty’s Royal Navy.’ Even as he says the words he wonders where his wig has gone, why his hair is free around his shoulders.

‘You were,’ she says again, more gently this time, and steps closer to him. He stares at her, helpless, angry, bewildered. She takes his face in her calloused hands, and rises on her toes to kiss his lips. For a brief moment he tastes rum and sea-salt, and then her lips are gone from his.

‘You will find yourself again,’ she says, her tone as dark as her eyes, and he can’t help thinking that her promise is more ominous than comforting.


End file.
